Yeoldebard
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The transport descended slowly through the predawn sky, making for a landing area on the water below. Powerful engines hummed as propellers stirred up the waters. With a loud splash, the vehicle bounced slightly on its pontoons before settling beside a wooden walkway. Passengers began flowing out of the door, walking at various speeds down the jetty. A blue Egaro let the rush sweep him along, toward a building that stood three stories tall. A bag hung heavily on his back, a pan flute hanging
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That's an interesting thought. Anya is definitely chaotic neutral; her single goal is basically Jakun's life. She's definitely got that inner steel, though her caring side could use a little TLC. Then again, she's undead, and by setting, that makes her irredeemably evil. Maybe she's just not as in tune with the whole good undead thing yet.
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The sounds of a dragon's roar roused Jeremy from a deep sleep, the man's eyes shooting open in shock. "Amnor Sen?" "Yeah, I hear it," the paladin said, already standing. The elf's gambeson went on quickly, his chain following as he grabbed his glaive. "We aren't going to fight a dragon?!" Jeremy stared at the elf in horror. "You can stay if you want. But there are people out there dying. My soul will not rest if I do not try to aid them," Amnor Sen said. Shaking his h
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Jakun sat on his bed, spellbook open on his lap. He was slowly figuring out some of the words of the ritual. Things like undead, calling, a name of some sort. After an hour spent going through his spells, the cat's mind felt like mush. But at least he had Anya to help him again. He could hear the moans from the room next door, moans that had him standing in horror at first, thinking zombies had gotten to Jeremy and Amnor Sen. Anya had explained the noises, laughing at his confusion even as s
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The ship's engines rumbled as it descended through the atmosphere. A Faro peered through a window anxiously, looking out at this new world. His new world, a vast, watery change from the old. Reinard Artego almost fell from his seat as the ship's feet collided with the firm ground. The belts holding him in were clearly not designed for someone of his stature, but he was not going to complain. No, he needed to stay under the radar, and complaining would only draw attention to himself. The
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Reinard Artego the Third is the last of his clan, a Faro running from his world after the death of his Segal. He takes refuge on Egara, working at a porneo, where no one would ever expect to find a Faro. Galen just moved to the Hephaestus Isles, accepting a job offer from his friend. The only issue is the offer comes with a house already taken by a Faro. When the Egaro and the Faro meet, cultures collide. Reinard fears his new roommate's sexual appetites, while Galen is amazed at Reinard's standoffish attitude toward him. For a week's time, the two will have to deal with each other. Or at least try not to kill each other.
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Amnor Sen grunted as he supported Jeremy. He had sent Jakun off to bed near an hour ago, intending to follow close behind. But Jeremy had insisted on finishing his gods damned bottle, and now the paladin had to deal with his drunken stupor. If this had been anyone else, Amnor Sen would hope the morning's hangover would keep this from happening again. But a servant of the Drunk God? There was no way Jeremy would ever stop drinking. "By the gods you are adorable…" At least the man was
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Heh, I know, right? But it's their story. All I can do is sit back and write it out. Popcorn anyone?
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The day's ride to Mechitar was exhausting. Amnor Sen had Jakun ride on Zephyr, not trusting the cat to summon his own horse. Or perhaps he didn't think Jakun could summon a horse after the previous day. He had to be held up as they walked through the city walls, the last group to do so that day. The gates closed behind them as Jeremy led the way past a group of humans. Living humans, almost a rarity in these lands. Jakun peered through the dark, his eyes nearly dazzled by the torches hel
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They travelled through the dark, searching out a safer place to sleep. Guided only by the wane light of the moon, the party moved through the silent night, each footstep a thundering alarm to the undead that doubtlessly lay around them. Yet nothing came at them out of the dark, and they made their way down the road in peace. Amnor Sen knew something was off. A book, the undead werewolf had said. And come to think of it, the necromancer had mentioned a missing book too. "Where is it?" he
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He felt her passing like a hammer to the sternum. Anya was gone, cut down by Loran's minions. It felt like his life was ending. Gone was that connection to her, the constant presence that had kept him sane as a slave. Her passing should have been the end of it all. How dare they keep fighting after taking her from him? And yet Amnor Sen and Jeremy continued beating back skeletons, as though the world was still moving. "Help…" the amurran whimpered, curling up beside the horses. He di
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True, however I am attempting to keep to the Pathfinder ruleset in this story.
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Anya is more a phantasm given form through Jakun's will. She is solid, insomuch as a phantasm werewolf can be solid, and can be hurt as such Mechanics-wise, she is Jakun's eidolon stylized after a spiritualist's phantasm spirit companion. So, she can take damage.
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Cannibalism. Matricide. Undeath. The crimes against Jakun were stacking up staggeringly fast. Amnor Sen needed to stop this, to help the amurran atone for his sins. He stood beside his horse, a soft brush knocking off the dirt from miles on the road. The motion was calming, repetitive, and it helped him think straight. "How do I help the undead Zephyr? He can be helped, I know he can. But Shelyn won't show me the way. Have I lost favour with her? She can't want me to destroy him. Jak
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I believe it is the fact that Loran has been casting permanency on the summons. His animated undead would crumble, but they would still have to deal with the summoned army.
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Mainly because the land they are in is a necromancer haven and if they kill him, all the undead working the fields would turn on the group. It would be suicide.
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They were free! Well not exactly free, but Jakun was no longer under the control of the necromancer. 'Free but still mute. Free but the bastard who did this to us still breathes…' Anya growled in his head. "We need to go to Mechitar," Jeremy urged as they walked away from the necromancer's plantation. "I know. But that's almost a hundred miles away, and the horses can't carry us all. So keep your pants on," Amnor Sen sighed. 'If they can find someone to free my voice in Mechitar,
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The first thing he noticed was how nice the building was. No decaying corpses, no prisoners screaming in agony. Amnor Sen wondered if this really was the necromancer's den. "Please, sit," the necromancer smiled, guiding them into a comfortable looking sitting room. The cleric and the paladin sat on separate chairs, Jakun lowering himself to his knees between them. "Excuse me, I did not give you permission to sit. Have you forgotten all your training in your night on the run?" the nec
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Emrathil knelt before the altar to Kelemvor, praying for his comrades in arms. They had suffered a fate worse than death, their souls trapped in their bodies, unable to pass to the afterlife. And he had been ordered to free them from their curse of undeath. The elven ranger stood, bow strung and in his hand. Maryn was first. He would be near the Blacklake district, preying on the Nashers. Emrathil was no stranger to the urban jungle, though he prefered the forest as most rangers do. And
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Every step felt like lead, the cat being towed back to his executioner. Anya was silent, distant, and Jakun was on his own. The one good note was they were going to free him. But he knew his master. Jakun would never be free. And he would certainly be tortured to near insanity, his mind kept intact enough that he could create his skeletons. No, he couldn't do this… Yet he had no choice. Without Anya, he couldn't escape, and she had already told him she wasn't helping. What was the po
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Amnor Sen stared at the stick in his hand, frowning slightly. It… worked, he supposed. A white pine wood with a skull at the base, empty eye sockets awaiting the completion of the craft. He couldn't say it was his best work. But then, he wasn't working in his shop, with the proper tools. It would work, though. His gut clenched slightly, but there was no way he was redoing this. Eight hours of work, eight hours of staring at a stick, shaving small pieces off… And now he stared at it even
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Not exactly... they just are getting over the shock for now.
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Jordan snuggled against his mates, Damian and Lysander's arms around the wolf. He could feel the pull of the moon fading, the wolf whimpering as he slowly lost control. As the morning light passed through a window, shining down on their bed, Jordan felt his body twitch, his human form taking over once again. Beside him, Lysander grunted as his body melted into the brown skinned elf. He snored on, his body used to the early morning change. Jordan let out a quiet sigh, nuzzling into the
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They bound him like an animal, tying his hands and feet together behind his back. Jakun lay on his side, completely immobile and shivering in the cold. This wasn't the worst way he had ever slept, but it was certainly in the bottom ten. 'I told you to stop,' Anya accused bitterly. 'Now we're stuck here…' 'Shut up and get me out of here.' 'I can't. He's watching us.' Jakun grunted quietly, hearing the sounds of something being slowly chipped at. 'Wood,' the werewolf provid
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Silence ruled the night, not even the chirping of crickets reaching Jeremy's ears. He hated this place, hated the death that was all around. The man sighed, sitting next to Amnor Sen. The elf was snoring quietly, though he would deny it vehemently if called on it. Jeremy didn't mind; he thought the tiny snores were adorable. Why the elf hated the thought of snoring was beyond him. Pulling out a silver tankard from his bag, the cleric worked one of his minor gifts from his god, filling th
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